


Jackson/Peter

by Siriusstuff



Series: Teen Wolf Drabbles [11]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Jackson Whittemore, M/M, Stiles makes a brief appearance, Sugar Daddy Peter Hale, Triple Drabble, teenwolfdrabbles bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:22:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27158572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriusstuff/pseuds/Siriusstuff
Summary: Filling the Jackson Whittemore/Peter Hale square on my Teenwolfdrabbles Bingo card, my eighth entry.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Jackson Whittemore
Series: Teen Wolf Drabbles [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1109313
Kudos: 14
Collections: teenwolfdrabbles





	Jackson/Peter

**Author's Note:**

> Filling the Jackson Whittemore/Peter Hale square on my Teenwolfdrabbles Bingo card, my eighth entry.

(1)

“Jackson, I have to say, because Derek’s making me, that I am _not_ sick to my stomach you’re staying here while your building is remediated for black mold.” 

“How civil of you, Stiles. Now go away."

Peter, the perennial uninvited guest, was staying there too.

His words failed to move Stiles so Peter brought Jackson’s face close to his. Jackson was seated in Peter’s lap. They commenced kissing with soft lascivious moans.

When Peter looked again Stiles, his nauseated gags fading, had vanished, presumably up the spiral stairs to hide with Derek.

“Now, where were we,” Peter said to Jackson.

(2)

Peter resumed feeding grapes one by one to his most recently acquired boy toy.

Jackson received each grape on his tongue, licking Peter’s fingertips every time.

Shifting in his seat so that Jackson could feel just how hard his dick was, “I have diamond status in a particularly fine hotel in Sacramento,” Peter rumbled. “We can stay there… indefinitely. Gather your things, or, leave them and I’ll buy you new things. Let’s exit this… gopher hole, shall we?”

Jackson wriggled till he’d aligned his ass crack, through his Calvin Kleins, with Peter’s hard-on.

Peter’s eyes flared blue, bluer than Jackson’s.

(3)

After swallowing another mouthful of frigid champagne Peter returned to Jackson’s hard cock and swallowed it.

Jackson’s abdominal muscles jerked, a leg thrashed, at the shock of cold and hot together. From his throat came a sound like a bass violin’s.

He’d never been on the receiving end of a better blow job, with an infestation of black mold to thank for it.

Peter’s fingers inched nearer and nearer Jackson’s asshole. The usually very selective bottom spread his legs wider.

So well-crafted was the bed, no springs squeaked, no headboard banged when Peter started pounding young Mister Whittemore to orgasm.


End file.
